Nothing happened ever.
Really, there was nothing. Humans had been sleeping for- what? Hundreds of years? All Wheatley had to do was change at the oxygen filters every few months and check to make sure they had a pulse every once in a while. But other than that, his life was fairly uneventful. He conversed with a few other sentient bots and zipped on his management rail. But they either didn’t care for idle chatter with him or were far too annoying for him to want to carry out a conversation with them. And his management rail was fairly limited. There weren’t many places he could go.
Then, Aperture powered down and the humans dropped fast. He was sure he could save the remaining ones. He would make it out with them - if he could save just one of them. That was all he needed. They needed him too, after all. He knew the facility. Surely, humans that had been in their sleeping state for hundreds of years didn’t know the facility better than he did. No, of course they needed him as a guide. And he needed them, not able to do much on a rail- not that they needed to know that.
The first few humans he had chosen to wake up were upset and gross looking from years of slumber and crying for a few hours, after being awoken - despite his urging the facility would crash any time. Then, they reached their untimely deaths - crushed in an malfunctioning Aperture Science Pneumatic Diversity Vent or smashed in a test door or losing their balance and falling into the Aperture Science Shredder - before even reaching a portal gun.
But this human, the last one alive, was his last hope. She was thin and pale, which wasn’t entirely reassuring and had a small bit of serious brain damage - not that that was his fault. He had monitored the subjects perfectly - well, okay, there had been a few lights flashing and alarms here and there, but that couldn’t have affected her brain functions, right?
“Look, we’re going to get through this together. We can be on the surface and do all kinds of stuff, sweetheart. I don’t know what exactly, but I’ve heard rumors of green grass. It’s supposed to be soft. Whatever that means.”
The human either wasn’t capable or chose not to speak. But at least she had her hearing - or he assumed she did. She gave small nods and at times, he swore the corners of her mouth would twitch up… though he couldn’t be completely sure as by the time he would double take, she resumed her flat expression.
He wasn’t sure how to verbalize it, but she meant so much. She was more than just a ticket out: She had given him purpose. He spent years on his management rail watching Aperture Science Sentry Turrets, or even companion cubes and wishing he had a greater purpose like them. Stinky, sleeping humans didn’t go anywhere or do anything. What a dull job! The turrets held themselves with such dignity! He wished he could be an obstacle in those tests like that.
But this woman here - This must have been what he was built for after all. This was his true meaning of life. Cleaning up after those disgusting humans was far from the real reason of his existence.
And if they could make it out of here in one piece together, he would have fulfilled his true one true purpose.